


Under the Light of the Moon

by danceswithhamsters01



Series: Reddit Prompts [18]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: A moment to contemplate things, F/M, and some sad, fluff!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 08:12:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16929636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceswithhamsters01/pseuds/danceswithhamsters01
Summary: Based on a prompt from r/dragonageThe Warden and Zevran went on a journey that had them away from Thedas for years. Now they're back home and building a life. Sevarra ponders a few things during a moment of peace.





	Under the Light of the Moon

****Prompt 5:****  A cool breeze, the night sky, the light of the moon, a balcony, a kiss on the back of the neck.

 

For once, the fates were being kind. A cool breeze brought a respite from the usual heat and stickiness that Antiva’s summer nights usually entailed. She sighed in gratitude and greedily drank in the chilled air as she stood on the balcony of their flat. It would probably herald a rainstorm soon enough. For the moment, she would take what pleasure could be found.

 

The city below twinkled with lights in windows and on lamps at street corners. People were out and about enjoying the evening air, doing errands both mundane and perhaps less-than-ethical. In one corner, a couple stood locked in an embrace. In another, a minstrel plucked a sweetly sad melody on his lute while he sang a song about a sailor who had to leave his lover behind while he went to sea. She’d forgotten what a luxury it had been to be where she could understand what everyone around her was saying. She almost wanted to shed tears of relief.

 

Time. They’d lost years in their fight for more time. The taint that used to burn in her veins had come close to claiming her life before… She shook her head, forcing herself to stop going down that upsetting trail of thought. They had won their fight, in the end. No more would she have to contemplate a journey to the Deep Roads to die in battle against darkspawn before the blight-sickness took her mind. No more would she have to carry the tiny vial of Quiet Death as insurance against being taken captive by them and twisted into a Broodmother instead. She shivered at the memory of the beasts. Killing them had been an act of mercy. She and her beloved had won. There would be no Calling, not for her, at least.

 

She took another deep breath, forcing herself back into the present. The night sky was illuminated by the light of the full moon, accompanied by perhaps a double handful of stars. Antiva City never truly stopped to slumber completely. For as lazy as the capital seemed during the afternoon heat, her citizens made up for it the moment the sun went down. The docks were busy day and night. Inns and cafes plied their trade, visitors and locals alike needing a place to rest and something that resembled a meal.

 

She could feel the quiet thrum of her… rescuer in the back of her mind. Fortitude was content to merely watch and listen, for the most part. If the spirit’s tale was to be believed, it had last seen the world of mortals through the eyes of her father’s mother. Her… grandmother had been a willing host, as had her grandmother before her, each of them Rivaini seers, mages. Sometimes, while she slept, the spirit would offer to show her memories… their memories. Zevran had shaken her awake the previous morning, worry written on his face. She’d been weeping in her sleep. She hadn’t been able to articulate it at the time, but the sight of her father as a small child through his mother’s eyes had torn open a hurt that she’d fought long and hard to ignore.

 

For as often as they had butted heads during the Blight, Sevarra missed Wynne. At least she would’ve had some insight on what it was like to be host to a benevolent spirit. In his last letter before she and Zevran had gone in search of a “cure,” Irving had conveyed the heartbreaking news that the archmage had perished while trying to rescue several First Enchanters who’d been held captive in the White Spire. Again, the guilt stung, a part of her mind saying she should’ve been there helping Wynne before Fortitude quickly quashed those thoughts, sharply reminding her host that there would’ve been no way to get there in time, even if she had known what was going on.

 

A soft kiss on the back of her neck announced the arrival of company. The mage smiled and leaned back against her beloved, giving a hum of contentment as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

 

“It is so cold out here, amora. You should come back inside,” he purred into her ear, giving the lobe a soft nip.

 

“Mmm, just getting a little fresh air, amor,” she sighed, eyes drifting closed.

 

“While in nothing but your nightdress,” he smirked, running a hand down her hip, caressing the red silky material that made up the chemise. “Come now, I fear the bed will get lonesome without us.”

 

They closed the door to the balcony with a laugh. As if it had been waiting for them to go back inside, the rain began minutes later.


End file.
